


but the rain falls once again

by mosalyng



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, M/M, catch them all!, kinda junhui-centric, meteorological metaphors, my i references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-23 03:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,004
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11981106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mosalyng/pseuds/mosalyng
Summary: Junhui used to hate the rain. Meeting Minghao changed everything.





	but the rain falls once again

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aivazovsky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aivazovsky/gifts).



Junhui used to hate the rain.

 

He hated how suffocating it was, thick air making it impossible for him to breathe ( _but, after all, everything about China was suffocating_ ). The darkness that slowly took over, along with heavy clouds and white noise of raindrops falling, scared him more than he’d like to admit. Junhui often imagined the sky falling over his head, crushing him underneath its weight.

 

His summer days were usually spent looking out of the window and watching the storm consume everything he had known. His little brother would often join him and observe the world as it crumbled in front of them while Junhui held him in his arms.

 

Growing up, Junhui had slowly come to a realization there were several kinds of rain. It was always changing, unknown. He decided to have some kind of a constant; for that very reason, every time the rain came, Junhui always looked for any sign of sunshine.

 

ㅡ

 

He left China at the age of sixteen.

 

Living in a foreign land was demanding, but Junhui couldn’t bring himself to regret his decision, not even when his mother’s voice, soft and calming as they talked on the phone, changed into sobbing sounds. He missed his family dearly, of course he did, but he just wanted to _breathe_ , throw away labels that had accompanied him ever since he began acting.

 

He gradually grew accustomed to trainee life, to Seoul, practice rooms, having to pull all-nighters to study Korean. It was overwhelming and _too much_ , but Junhui didn’t complain, not even once, because all this exhaustion was giving him a weird sense of satisfaction and happiness, making him feel like he was _enough_. 

 

He befriended some people along the way; for the first time in his life, some part of him thought that maybe there was another person he could truly call a brother; not by blood but by choice. Mingming was kind and fun to be with but, most importantly, he understood him in ways no one else did.  They became inseparable.

 

After Mingming had left, Junhui was on the verge of breaking down. He eventually decided to practice even harder, stay in the practice room longer than anyone else in order to get rid of every dark cloud in his mind, to prevent the rain from falling.

 

 

ㅡ

 

He hardly ever experienced the Seoul rain; every sound of the outside world was drowned out by music and his own heartbeat.

 

ㅡ

 

 

Minghao comes to Korea a year after Junhui. When they meet for the first time, Junhui mistakes him for an old friend. Minghao doesn’t mind.

 

Junhui patiently helps him and waits for Minghao to open up and get familiar with differences between both countries. Keeps him company as Minghao diligently practices writing Hangul and tries to subdue his accent. It’s a seemingly endless process, but he has time. There’s a need to protect the younger more than anyone else and Junhui gives in to it without a thought.

 

What draws him in is that they aren’t similar; Minghao gets tired of his jokes easily and isn’t afraid to point out his flaws. Junhui is the older one but sometimes it’s as if it was the other way around. They balance each other and move in perfect harmony, both while dancing and in everyday life.

 

Sometimes Minghao calls him _gē_ instead of _hyung_ and Junhui gives him the softest, the warmest smile in response.  Maybe he was fated to live in a country that wasn’t his own and spend his days missing something he deliberately rejected. Mandarin would always sound like _home_ , no matter how hard he tried to blend in.  

 

That’s what Minghao is; home.

 

The invisible string pulls them together and Junhui comes to a realization that Minghao is, in fact, an old friend; his soulmate, the one he’s known since the beginning of time.

 

 

ㅡ

 

Junhui kisses him a few months after their debut.

 

It’s not spectacular because it doesn’t need to be. There’s a mutual understanding between them. Things they both feel at this moment have always been there, buried deep underneath everyday matters.

 

“ _Gēge_ ,” Minghao whispers as he caresses Junhui's cheek and they both smile.

 

ㅡ

 

“You know, I’ve been thinking,” Minghao says one day as they eat instant ramen in their small kitchen. Other members are gathered in the living room, distant sounds of laughing serve as background noise to their conversation.

 

Junhui looks at him, urges him to continue.

 

“We should ask the boss for a duet. We could create our own choreography and write our own lyrics. I guess it would have to be in Korean.. but, you know. Later on, we can record it in Mandarin, too,”

 

Minghao’s face lights up as he talks about his ideas. Junhui nods. He’s always been more of a follower, observer, listener so he lets Minghao be in charge. He translates the lyrics into Korean without hesitation and works on details in their choreography, does everything to ease Minghao’s perfectionist mind.

 

The song makes it into the album.

 

ㅡ

 

 

“This is nice,” Minghao says as he shuffles closer to Junhui.

 

The outside world disappears behind a wall of rain. It’s one of their rare days off and they’ve been lying around in bed ever since they woke up. Junhui decides that’s what people mean when they talk about _healing_ ; his soul and his body are literally melting, loosening under Minghao’s touch as he traces the lines of Chinese characters on Junhui’s arm.

 

Junhui doesn’t even need to concentrate on what Minghao is trying to tell him because he already knows. It’s written all over the younger’s face as he moves his fingers up and down Junhui’s skin.

 

“Yeah,” Junhui answers and kisses Minghao’s forehead. “It is.”

 

And the words that leave his mouth are genuine because, despite the sounds of a storm and everything that is going on outside, he’s warm. The rain doesn’t affect him anymore, not in the way it used to.

 

He has found his sunshine.

**Author's Note:**

> i can't believe i overcame my writer's block........ the power of wen junhui and my i teasers, i guess. thank you @ agata for teaching me about chinese honorifics!! you're the real mvp
> 
>  
> 
> thank you for reading ♡


End file.
